


To Love a Commander

by Hissingwillows



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, maybe future smut, starts out as Costia/Lexa but becomes Clexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hissingwillows/pseuds/Hissingwillows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is fourteen when her father discovers the breach in the air filtration. Fifteen when he takes her and escapes the Ark, trying to reach the Ground. When they crash, Jake is killed in the landing, and Clarke is discovered by a Commander-in-training. She grows to love the Trigadakru, but when her people come to the Ground, and are struggling to survive- and with the pressing issue of the Mountain Men growing- Clarke is forced to choose between her family and those who saved her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. when she fell from the sky

**Author's Note:**

> I know this idea is a bit overused, but all of the fics I've read for this idea have pretty much skimmed over the time that Clarke lands to the time the 100 land, which is what I want to put more focus on. I've also never seen Costia mentioned, and she's a pretty big character in this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The first thing Clarke notices is the _air_.

When she gropes for the lever to release the door on her and her father's pod, the craft is filled it with it, and she cannot help but heave a heavy sigh. She never realized that air could smell so good. It is almost overwhelming, but it's also exhilarating.

Clarke opens her eyes again, gazing in awe at the forest around her. It is so much _impossibly_ better than she could have ever dreamed. The world is not barren, and she is not being burned by radiation. There is no constant whir of machinery, but chirps and hum of insects that make her heart race.

Clarke feels a sharp pain run through her head. She touches it lightly, wincing at the contact. When she draws it away, there is some blood, but it doesn't seem too heavy. She turns to her father, elated. “Dad!” She exclaims. “Dad, we made it, we’re-” She stares in horror. “Dad?”

Jake’s head has fallen to almost touch the dashboard of the pod. She shakes him roughly. “Dad! Wake up! We’re alive!” You’re… you’re alive!”

She places a hand on his forehead, and realities it is covered in much more blood than hers. Clarke's breathing becomes ragged as she pulls away. He is _cold_ , so cold. "Dad..." She does not heed the years that fall freely as a strangled sob wracks her chest. Her hands search for the release to her belt, and it takes a few moments to find it. When she is free of the belt, she squirms out of the pod and steps onto the soft forest floor.  
  
There is soil, real soil, and it has a scent of its own. Clarke's takes a ragged breath as she stares inside the pod, heart hammering away. He's only passed out, he's only passed out, he's going to be okay, he's only passed out, she chants in her head, though the tears continue to fall. The realization that she is completely, utterly alone on Earth- on the ground- is absolutely terrifying.   
  
_The radio._ The radio! Her father made sure to fix up a radio so they could contact the Ark if they survived. Tell them it was survivable.  
  
She swallows as she steps back towards the pod, and she quickly sees the radio, and knows it is useless. Smoke is rising from the black box, and two of its cords are severed. She is no mechanic, not an engineer like her father. Clarke states at her father's limp, cold body before she sobs, loudly, and falls into a crouch, crying. She leans against the wrecked pod, clutching her knees to her chest. She is alone, and she will die alone on a planet that she does not know.   
  
Or perhaps she is not so alone.  
  
Clarke's eyes snap open as she hears the snap of twigs and what almost sounds like whispering.  
  
" _Shof op, Leksa_!"

  
Clarke's widen as three women- though two are really just girls, who seem to be Clarke's age- step out from behind trees, in low crouches, as they approach slowly.  
  
The oldest says something to Clarke, though the language is foreign and sounds like gibberish. " _Chon yu bilaik_?"  
  
"I don't..." Clarke pulls her knees in tighter. The tallest woman has high cheekbones, and eyes outlined by some sort of smeared black paint. Both her and the girl beside her are brunettes with wild eyes and cautious expressions, while a short, lanky redhead remains a step beside the younger brunette. She gulps, trying to rub the tears away from her face. "I don't understand."  
  
"You are... from the Mountain?" The woman speaks again, and Clarke is relieved when she heard the English.  
  
"The sky," Clarke says, quietly. "I came from the sky. My father and I."  
  
The redhead giggles, and whispers something to the younger brunette. " _Em ste spichen."_  
  
"Costia believes you are lying," The woman says, tilting her head. "Why should I believe such a tale?"  
  
"Why would I lie?" Clarke asks. "I did. My father..." she pauses, taking a shaky breath. She cannot cry in front of this woman. Not when her hand rests on a long dagger at her side. "He- he's in there. He won't... he's not waking up."  
  
The woman stared at Clarke a long moment before saying something sharply to the redhead- Costia. The girl's eyes widened before she nodded and slowly, carefully, she approached the craft.   
  
"Move aside, Sky Girl," The woman orders, and Clarke forces herself to her feet, stepping away from the door of the pod as the girl came close.  
  
Costia touches the metal door cautiously, as though she is afraid it will burn her. The girl leans in and peers inside, then retreats back to the woman's side, shaking her head. " _Em gonplei ste odon_ ," she whispers.  
  
Clarke does not understand the words, though she believes them to be about her father.  
  
Anya's eyes narrowed in the slightest. "You say you come from the sky."  
  
The words are prompting, Clarke knows. "I did," she answers. "We lived in a space station."  
  
The redhead is again behind the younger brunette, and she glances around her to speak to Clarke. "Did you live with the stars?"  
  
Clarke almost smiles, despite her situation. _These people have no knowledge of modern science or mechanics,_ she thinks. _She looked afraid when she touched the pod._ "In a way, I guess," Clarke says. "But they're much farther away than the Ark is."  
  
The second girl, who has not spoken the entire time, whispers to the woman in their tongue.  
  
"Lexa believes we should trust you, Sky Girl." The woman steps closer, and the girls follow. "Should I?"  
  
"I don't know what I could do to betray your trust," Clarke says, still sticking to the pod's side. There is something feral about this woman that makes her uncertain of whether Clarke can trust her.  
  
"And you are not from the Mountain?" The woman repeats, and the younger brunette rolls her eyes, speaking sharply to her in their language. " _Teik em bei, Onya. em ste nou Maunon_. _Em kom osir._ "  
  
Lexa is clearly younger than the woman, so Clarke is confused when she tightens her jaw and nods. "Very well." She looks down at Clarke, straightens her back, and finally crosses the gap between them. Clarke swallows, a little fearfully, as the woman seems to be giving her a look-over. "Well, Sky Girl. What do they call you?"  
  
"Clarke," She whispers, her voice rough and gravely.  
  
"Speak up," the woman orders. "Show me strength."  
  
Clarke clenches her fists, and despite the swirling in her stomach, she looks up at the woman. "Clarke." She says, with a full voice. "My name is Clarke."  
  
" _Klark kom Skaikru_ ," The woman nods. "I am Anya. Welcome to the Trigadakru."

* * *

Lexa watches the Skaikru girl as they trek through the forest. It had taken a few minutes to convince her to leave the pod, because of her father. Only when Anya relented and lit a makeshift torch, offering to burn her father to send his spirit back to the sky, Clarke tightened her jaw and agreed.

The girl had cried silently for the first few minutes through the forest, until Lexa had heard a sharp inhale, and a heavy sigh. Now she was looking at the world and admiring it's glory as though she were only a babe with no knowledge of the world. This girl is not Mounon, Lexa thinks, as Clarke reaches out, tentatively, to touch the bark of a tree. She wears no suit and does not know the world. The only Mounon who leave the Mountain come with guns and green suits. Lexa glances at Anya, who is a few long paces ahead, leading, and almost scoffs. It was foolish of her to think so.

She feels a light brush of fingertips on her arm, and glances to the girl at her side. " _Chit laik yu theinken gon_?" Costia whispers. 

Unlike most of her people, Costia was a questioner. She was curious and adventurous and mischievous, and brought out the same in Lexa when she was not training, which often landed the pair in trouble with Anya, their mentor. Lexa's people often were quiet, only speaking when they felt necessary, but Costia could talk the ear of a _Pauna_ if she tried hard enough.

"Nothing of value," Lexa replies in English, out of respect for Clarke. Her eyes are still watching Clarke, who jumped and gasped in amazement as a crow landed near them and cawed. "Only observing the girl."

"She is odd," Costia remarks. "She looks as though she has never seen a tree before!"

"I do not believe she has," Lexa says. "If she does come from the sky. I doubt there are trees in the sky. They need the earth."

"There are no trees on the Ark," Clarke answers, glancing over her shoulder. "Only metal."

Lexa shoots a small glare at Costia, who only smiles. "I did not intend to offend you, Clarke," Lexa says.

"I'm not offended," Clarke says, staring up at the sky for a long moment. "I wonder where the Ark is now."

Costia leaves Lexa's side to move closer to the Sky Girl. "What is it like?" She asks, eyes wide. "In the sky?"

"I lived in space," Clarke says. "Above the sky, I guess. We'd probably just look like another star from down here." Lexa steps a little closer as well, intrigued. The girl looks deep in thought. "We learned a lot about the Earth," she says. "About plants and survival skills and animals we- well, not us, but future people- might see. We thought the Earth was supposed to be covered in radiation for another hundred years. I didn't know there were even people living here."

"We did not know there are people living in the sky," Costia says, seeming fascinated.

"What is the- er... the Triga crew?" Clarke looks confused as she tries to repeat the word.

"That is the name of our people," Lexa says, walking besides the girl. "Trigadakru. We are the Tree Clan."

“What’s it like?” Clarke asks, eyes wandering again. “The Ground.”

Costia spreads her arms, as though gesturing to the entire forest. “This is what it is like,” she said. “I would not know how to explain it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Clarke whispers. “So much more than in pictures.”

Lexa shakes her head as Costia continues to ask questions. “How did you stay in the sky?”

The walk seems longer than it is, what with Costia’s relentless questions and Clarke’s quiet answers. Lexa notes the slight drop in her voice as she talks about her old home, and her people. Secretly, Lexa wishes to know more as well, but is she is not like Costia, and does not pry. Clarke is clearly shaken, as the wonder of the world around starts to fade. Lexa can see the smile fade as she talks about the Ark.

“Costia,” Lexa murmurs, touching the girl’s arm. “Enough.”

Costia is about to protest, until she sees Clarke’s face, and she nods, frowning.

“We are almost there,” Anya says, and they all look to her. “Now stop chattering like birds.”

* * *

 

Clarke stares, wide-eyed, at the huge village before her.

“Welcome to TonDC,” Anya says, waving for them to follow her. “This is where our people live.”

There are adults doing all sorts of tasks, some are slicing meat while others roast it over fires; some men are sharpening weapons while other people carry logs and pelts across camp. It is bustling with life, and Clarke is amazed to see so many people here, on the Ground. She had been told that every last human on Earth was killed by either the bombs or radiation, but it is quite clear that they were wrong.

“Lexa,” Anya says. “Take Clarke to your tent. Since you wished to bring her, you may give her shelter until we arrange otherwise.”

Clarke sees Lexa’s lips twitch into a hint of a frown, but she nods regardless. “This way,” she says to Clarke, passing her and starts to walk through the camp.

“Goodbye, Clarke,” Costia says. “I have other things I need to do.” She turns and hurries away, and Clarke quickly follows Lexa. The brunette leads her past clusters of tents, past working people who watch her with curious eyes and guarded expressions.

Lexa’s tent is large, larger than many of the others Clarke has seen. Lexa pushes aside the flap, holding it open for Clarke. The blonde enters, and gazes around the tent. There is a table, adorned with maps and knives, while a small bed covered in a variety of pelts lays in the back.

“Wow,” Clarke gapes at all of the maps on Lexa’s table, stepping closer and staring at them with interest. They are all on small pieces of parchment or hide, lined up together to make up a large, single map. She glances at Lexa. “I have to ask, why do you have so much stuff?”

Lexa’s brow furrows slightly. “I do not understand the question.”

“I mean…” Clarke’s gaze sweeps the table again. “Your tent is bigger than almost everyone else’s. And when Anya was questioning me, you said something to her that sounded like an order. Or something.”

Lexa pulls a dagger from the loose belt around her waist and lays it on the table. “I am to be Commander of my people when I come of age. Anya is my mentor, but she is not in charge.”

“And you are?” Clarke asks.

“Not entirely,” Lexa replies, reaching back to untie her intricate braid. “For now, our people rely mostly on the wisdom of our elders and healer. But I am learning to command, and they listen to me if I do so.”

“But…” Clarke blinks, surprised. “You’re just a kid. You’ve got to be as old as me.”

“I am a warrior, Clarke,” Lexa looks at her as though Clarke is the one not making sense. “I do not know how your people work in the sky, but here, age is of little importance. I will become Heda in one year.”

Clarke nods, though she is still confused, before her face starts to fall again. _Dad would have loved to see this place. He would’ve been amazed by all these people. The whole civilization. These maps._

Clarke sniffs, rubbing her eyes as she feels tears rising. She still does not want to cry in front of these people.  
  
"Something is wrong," Lexa observes, and her stony gaze softens noticeably.  
  
"My dad," Clarke says quietly. "He would have loved to see all the people. To see the Earth. It was his idea to come here."  
  
"Why did you come here?" Lexa asks, picking up a small pitcher and pouring water into a wooden cup, before she approaches Clarke and hands it to her.  
  
Clarke smiles her thanks. She had not noticed the dryness of her throat before she takes a sip, relishing the relief of the cool liquid. Even the water tastes better here. On the Ark, there was always a metallic tang to their water, but this only fresh and cool. "Sit," Lexa orders, inclining her head to the bed.   
  
Clarke sits, taking another long sip of water, and licks her lips. "I said we lived in a space station," she starts. "But it's very old. Our oxygen supply is limited, and it had to be filtered with a system. My father discovered a breach in it. One that would break down in about a year, maybe two, and there was no way to fix it. He..." she swallows, staring hard at the ground. "He wanted to tell our people. But our leaders are harsh, and any crime is punishable by death."  
  
As Clarke speaks, Lexa moves closer to sit at the foot of the bed, listening quietly.  
  
Clarke continues. "Criminals get ejected into space, and there's no air. If you're a kid, you get locked up until you turn eighteen, and they review your crime. It's still likely you get floated, though. They don't want to waste oxygen on low-lives." Clarke's throat tightens, feeling bitter. "My father knew they wouldn't want him telling our people. So he fixed up the pod in case  something went wrong. It took him awhile, longer than I knew about what he found.  
  
"I found out when he was arguing with my mother about it. She's part of the Council, who lead the Ark. She disagreed with his plan. I confronted him later about it." Clarke's grip on the cup tightens. "I wanted to help him. He wouldn't let me, but he told me about the pod, and how he was going to go to the Ground if he was discovered too early, or die trying." It takes her a moment to hold back the years that threaten to fall.

"I guess they found out. He woke me up... last night, I think. It was very late. I don't really know how we made it to the pod, but I was half-asleep and I didn't really _get_ it. That we were actually leaving. He said he'd be able to explain later, that we had no time and we just had to go. He told me I was in danger, too, which was why he took me." Clarke glances at Lexa, who looks somewhat confused, though sympathetic. "I don't know what happened. He never got to tell me. Our pod was pretty crappy, I guess, because I hit my head pretty early in the drop and passed out."  
  
Lexa's eyes flicker to the wound on Clarke's forehead. "Does it pain you?" she asks. "It should be cleaned."  
  
"I'm fine." Clarke looks away, finishing the water.  
  
Despite Clarke's words, Lexa rises and retrieves a bowl, a gray rag, and fills the bowl with water. She returns to Clarke's side, dipping the rag in the water. Lexa looks back up at her. "May I? Your wound may become infected, Clarke."  
  
Clarke relents, nodding quickly and pulls her hair away from her forehead. It almost surprises her at how gentle Lexa's touch is as she wipes and dabs at the cut. She rinses the rag twice, then sets the bowl down on the ground, inspecting it. "It is not deep," she remarks. "You should be fine."

"Thank you," Clarke murmurs. She is quiet for a long moment, starting to feel awkward. "So... what do we do now?"

"Food should be prepared shortly. We eat at sundown, and it is nearly that time." Lexa stands, looking back at Clarke. "For now, I can show you around TonDC."

 


	2. first light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has a nightmare and sees her first sunrise. Indra looks about ready to kill her already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your support! I've already got much of the plot figured out, and I'm pretty excited to keep writing! Sorry about thee short chapter, the next will definitely be longer!

As night started to fall, great bonfires were lit and tables were laid out, filled with meats and bread and berries and more things than Clarke knew of. The fires alone were intriguing to her- she had never actually seen a real one, as they burned oxygen.

She stands beside Lexa and Costia, who are picking strips of meat and chunks of bread from the table and placing them on carved wooden plates. People of all ages and builds are jostling each other in their eagerness to grab food.

"Is it like this every night?" Clarke whispers to Lexa, awed by the bounty of food before her. Never has food appeared so appealing to her- on the Ark, meals were bland, and made for nutrients rather than taste or enjoyment.

"In times of peace," Lexa says, smiling softly. "And for the time, we are not at war, so we can eat well."

Clarke tries not to be greedy as she selects a couple strips of an unknown meat, an apple, and a sliver of bread. There is a gnawing in her stomach, but she tries to ignore it.

"That is not sufficient!" Costia exclaims, looking at Clarke's plate. "You will not get strong that way. Muscle is built on full meals and training, and you cannot get it with only one of the two." She starts to place foods on Clarke's plate, ignoring the girl's quiet protest. "Eat!" She orders. "There is enough for all."

When their plates are full, Lexa leads them to a smaller fire, where a few other teenagers around their age are gathered. "These are the seconds, and those in training," Lexa says.

A lanky boy with braided hair glances up at Clarke. " _Em slip daun kom skai_?"

"She speaks English," Costia says, and the boy narrows his eyes.

"Only _Maunon_ do not understand our tongue," he says, expression turning more into a glare.

"She came from the sky," Lexa says firmly. "You may ask her about it another time, Cheval."

Cheval scoffs and takes a bite of meat, ignoring them.

They sit on the ground, cross-legged, and Costia nods encouragingly to Clarke's plate. "Eat."

Clarke picks up a slice of a dark meat, that smells of fat and smoke and Clarke feels her mouth water, and she relents, bringing to her mouth and tearing off a bite. She moans a little at the incredible, savory taste- she has never had anything so delicious. She no longer cares for manners or to stand on ceremony, and begins to dig in heartily like the rest of the group.

After Lexa tells the group to leave her be, no one asks about the sky, which Clarke greatly appreciates. The day has been overwhelming, and Clarke feels as though she has hardly had time to process anything.   
  
The meal is finished soon, and Lexa again leads her back to her tent. She lights a candle, as well as a lantern that hangs from a pole that props up the tent.   
  
"Where should I sleep?" Clarke asks, feeling guilty for taking up Lexa's space.  
  
"Sleep on the bed," Lexa says, seeming unfazed. "I can sit at the end."  
  
Clarke bites her lip. "Won't you be uncomfortable?"  
  
"I've slept on stones and against trees, Clarke," Lexa says with a hint of a smile. "I will manage."  
  
Clarke frowns but nods, sitting on the bed for a moment to untie and remove her shoes. She leaves her socks, uncertain how how warm the furs are and how cold the night will be. The Ark's temperature was a constant, always mild. Never too cold, never too warm. Here, however, the temperature changes throughout the day, Clarke has already noticed. It is significantly cooler than it was when Anya discovered her.  
  
Tentatively, Clarke lifts up the furs to find that they are double-backed- someone had stitched the furs so that pelts were on both sides, making it more comfortable. She slides under them, resting her head on another rolled fur, which seems to mimic a pillow. The hairs on the pelt tickle her nose, but it is still quite possibly the most comfortable thing she has ever felt in her life.  
  
Lexa takes her place at the foot of the bed, head gently rested against another support beam of the tent. Clarke looks at her and almost invites her to lay down as well, but decides against it.  
  
As she lays there, exhaustion overwhelms her. Today's events were incredibly stressful, and devastating- in the death of her father. It does not take long for sleep to overcome her.  
  
 _“We’ve got to go,” her father whispers in her ear as he pulls her from her bed. “I’ll explain soon. Something happened, kiddo, but we need to go.”_

_Clarke does not argue, and follows him. The corridors are darker than usual, and Clarke is sluggish. She stays away from the walls. Something is wrong with them._

_Her father is walking too fast. He turns too quickly, and Clarke has to run to keep up with him. But running is hard. It must be because she is tired._

_He finally brings her to the pod, and they are ejected before Clarke can properly close the door. The pod seems smaller than it should be. Why is it so cramped? It looked bigger on the inside._

_“Sorry, kiddo,” Her father smiles at her, before his head smashes against the dashboard with a thud._

_Splat._

" _Dad_!" Clarke screams as she jolts awake, trembling. Her heart is racing again, and this time, she cannot stop the tears from falling. Her forehead is drenched in sweat.

"Clarke?" Lexa asks, voice gravelly as she runs her eyes. "Did something happen?"  
  
Clarke tries to steady her breathing, to no avail. She has avoided the reality of her father's death and it crushing effect on her, and now it was overwhelming her. "M-my d-dad," she sniffs, shakily sitting up as she is shaken by a sob. "I-I-I s-saw him and h-he..."  
  
Lexa says nothing before she reaches out, pulling Clarke closer. Surprised, the girl lets her, and the brunette pulls her into her lap. "Cry," she says, quietly. "I understand. You are having nightmares, and I have had them as well. Sometimes you must allow yourself to be weak, Clarke." Lexa's fingers start to thread through Clarke's hair, as though trying to soothe her.  
  
Clarke buries her head in Lexa's lap, and cries. Loudly, wholly. Body shaking with the effort, lungs without air. Her head hurts, but she does not stop.   
  
Lexa dutifully continues to comb gently through Clarke's hair, allowing her to continue without protest, without false promises of better times and a sorrow-less mind. She weaves Clarke's locks into braids, as the blonde's crying progressively slows, and there is only the occasional involuntary twitch of her chest as her body tries to regulate her breathing. Slowly, but surely, Clarke stops crying altogether, eyes closed.  
  
Lexa looks at the girl sleeping in her lap, and feels her throat tighten. She thinks, perhaps, that Clarke is the most innocent person she has met. She can assume Clarke has never seen war, never felt the loss of one she loved. She has never seen the body of the dead, nor watched the flame and smoke of their rising spirit, nor the falling ash of their remnant. She is delicate, but now she has seen death, and she does not know how to cope.

“Lexa?” Clarke croaks, and the brunette blinks. She had been certain the girl was asleep. “Am I going to be okay?”

Lexa swallows, trying to think of what to say to her. After a moment, she sighs. “It will fade, Clarke, but it will always be present. It will always be there, but it will be less so.”

Clarke is silent for a while, before she whispers, “Thank you. You saved my life.”

Lexa smiles softly at her. “Perhaps one day, you shall save mine.”

* * *

Clarke is gently shaken awake, and her head shoots up, to collide sharply with Lexa’s jaw. “Shit!” Clarke yells, grabbing the top of her head as it smarts painfully, and Lexa groans, rubbing her jaw. Clarke looks up at Lexa. “I’m so sorry.”

Lexa glares at the blonde. “You are much too easily startled, Clarke. I did not even wake you roughly.”

“Sorry,” Clarke grumbled again, sitting up, much more slowly this time. She blinked, realising it was still dark. “Is something the matter? It’s still night.”

Lexa, despite the sharp pain in her jaw, smiles. “Come. I have something to show you.” She stands, offering Clarke a hand. Confused, Clarke takes it, and Lexa leads her out of the tent. There is faint light, and the stars are not so easy to see anymore. There are a few people up, but TonDC is mostly quiet and still.

Lexa releases her hand to hurry through the camp. “Slow down!” Clarke groans, stumbling after her as she rubs her eyes.

Lexa waits as she reaches the main entrance to TonDC, watching as Clarke fumbles after her.

"Where are we going?" Clarke asks as she catches up the brunette. "I've had hardly any sleep in the past two nights."  
  
"You will see," Lexa says, grabbing her hand again to pull Clarke after her. "But we must hurry, or we shall miss it."  
  
Clarke allows the girl to lead her out into the forest, yawning. However, she cannot ignore the returning fascination with this world. Birds are emerging from tree tops, some in pairs, while others take to the sky in flocks, chirping their morning songs.  
  
Lexa stops at a tall, dark tree, and beckons for Clarke to follow. She steps upon twisted roots that have not been covered by the earth for leverage, then pulls herself up to the lowest branch. "Follow," Lexa says, continuing to climb. "It is easy."  
  
Clarke manages to climb after her (albeit, while slipping and nearly falling out of the tree countless times), panting quickly. "What the hell are we doing?" She demands, and Lexa only glances back, smiling.  
  
When they have reached a sturdy branch, high in the tree, Lexa sits, then motions again for Clarke to come up. The blonde finds a place where she can hold on well enough without falling, and does her best not to look down. "Look," Lexa murmurs, and Clarke's eyes follow her gaze.  
  
From where they are sitting, there is a break in the tree line, so that they can see the horizon. The gray sky is slowly becoming lighter, as the peak of the sun starts to rise.  
  
Clarke watches, mesmerised, as the forest is bathed in its golden rays, the clouds in the sky stained with faint hues of pinks and oranges. The feeling blossoming in her chest as she watches dawn unfold is euphoric, and indescribable. She has never seen anything quite so intriguing or beautiful in her life.  
  
She sees Lexa watching her reaction, looking almost nervous for a moment. "I did not think you had ever seen the sun rise," She explains, quickly, eyes flitting between the horizon and Clarke's face. "I thought you would enjoy it."  
  
"It's..." Clarke licked her lips, staring at the sky for a long moment. "It's so _beautiful_. I love it." She looks back up at Lexa, smiling. "Thank you. For everything."  
  
Lexa's lips pull into a small smile, and she nods. "You are welcome, Clarke."

* * *

 

 

Training begins a week later.

Clarke is slowly assimilating to the life of the Trigadakru. Many still watch her with suspicion in their eyes, murmuring about _Maunon_ , of which Clarke still knew nothing about.

She was introduced to a dark-skinned woman with tribal tattoos like many of the Trigadakru. When Anya told the woman, Indra, that she was to train Clarke, the woman tightened her jaw and glared fiercely at Clarke. “ _Em ste nou won gon osir_ ,” She muttered to Anya.

“She is now,” Anya snapped. “Lexa orders it.”

Indra makes a noise between a scoff and laugh, and shakes her head. “I will train the girl. Leave me.”

There seems to be a tension between them, but Clarke cannot be sure. When Anya turns quickly and walks away, Indra looks her up and down. “Sky Girl.” The two syllables are spat contemptuously.  “Make one wrong move, make me think for one moment that you are not who you say you are, and you will find this blade through your heart.” She pulls a short sword from a sheath on her back and touches the tip to Clarke’s chest. The blonde swallows hard, forcing herself to keep eye contact with Indra. She has learned quickly that these people despise weakness, and this would be a prime moment to be strong. Do this for Dad. Survive for him. He died so you could live. Live for him. Clarke tightens her jaw, nodding sharply. Indra narrows her eyes. “You will be one of us when I say so, and not before. Training begins at dawn tomorrow.” She puts away her weapon, turning away. “Do not disappoint me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Em ste nou won gon osir,” [Indra]: She is not one of us.


	3. i gotta lump in my throat (because you're gonna sing the words wrong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke experiences rigorous training, and receives help from Lexa. First snow arrives and Clarke can't help feeling like someone punched her in the gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I wasn't too fond of this chapter at first but the end flowed a lot more smoothly and I like it so much more. It does a couple of short time skips- three months in total.
> 
> Anyway, I was doing an outline for the plot and realized this is probably going to be a long-ass story. I mean, we've got two years to cover and that's before Fuckboy Collins and the Sunshine Gang show up. You're going to be stuck here for a while.

"Throw!"

Clarke spins on her heels and tosses the knife, letting out a loud groan of anger when it misses for the sixth time. There is a target set up for her to hit, but she has yet to do so.

"Again." Indra orders, jaw rigid and eyes narrowed.

Clarke picks up another throwing knife, and prepares to throw.

"Throw!"

Miss.

"Again. Throw!"

Miss.

"Throw!"

This routine continues until Clarke has retrieved the five throwing knives twice, and Indra makes a displeased grunt. "Enough."

Beads of sweat are forming on Clarke's forehead, and she is breathing heavily from frustration more than exertion.

"Your attempts are pathetic, Sky Girl," Indra spits. You would be better off as bait for _ripa_." She stands straight, having been leaning against a tree. "Go back to camp. I've seen enough."

Clarke clenched her teeth, burning with loathe and frustration. Over the past two weeks, Indra has been nothing but short and cold, and has done little in the means of assisting Clarke. She nods sharply, hands sore and throat tight.

She has barely left the clearing before a boy jumps down from above, startling her, and lands close by. "Sky Girl didn't do so well," he comments, smiling nastily. "Perhaps you should return to the _Maonon_ where you belong."

"Cheval," Clarke says, voice flat. If anything could be worse than Indra and her rigid training, it was Cheval. Clarke had yet to understand why the boy had it out for her, but he was there like a stone in her shoe that she couldn’t quite get rid of.

“Going to hide behind Lexa, Sky Girl?” He hisses, and she clenches her jaw again, trying to step farther away. She refuses to answer his taunts. “If not for her, you would be dead, Sky Girl. We would not have taken you in, and you would have died in the woods.” Clarke’s hands are clenching and unclenching into fists, and Cheval, smirking, sees her building anger. "She will be too busy one day, Sky Girl, and you will not have her to protect you."

Clarke was mentally preparing to spin on her already-sore heels and punch him in his smug face, but when she saw the entrance to TonDC, she nearly heaved a sigh of relief. Cheval didn't dare terrorize her inside camp, because for all his tough words, he was afraid of Lexa.

Once she stepped foot inside TonDC, she heard him scoff loudly. "Sky Girl is afraid of a fight," he sneered. "She will never be a warrior."

Clarke took the bitter insult and said nothing in return. She could handle Cheval's snide remarks and taunts. She would not be able to handle being banished or punished for attacking him. If she could even handle him in a fight.

When she reaches Lexa's tent, she sighs heavily and sits on the single chair inside, leaning over to unlace her shoes and massage her sore and now-callused feet. Ever since the first night, she has waken to nightmares, and Lexa insisted she stay in her tent; saying that being alone when weakened is a terrible feeling.

Clarke rests her head in her hands for a moment. The past three weeks have been absolutely brutal. The first week on the Ground was easy and exciting. Costia and Lexa had taken turns showing her around camp and the surrounding woods. She had seen windblown meadows and babbling brooks to quiet ponds and peaceful clearings. The world around her was beautiful, and she loved every moment of viewing it when she could with the girls.

Then there was training. Clarke was proving to be inadequate at everything she tried. Her thrusts and parries were weak, her aim was bad, and she couldn’t be silent in the forest to save her life. It was embarrassing, in all honesty. She had watched children younger than her do better at everything. Lexa told her not to worry- she had not been raised to be a warrior, as they all had, and it would simply take time to learn. Lexa’s stubborn encouragement and quiet support after her night terrors were all that kept Clarke going.

“Are you alright?” Clarke looks up to see Lexa standing in the opening of her tent, looking concerned.

“Fine,” Clarke sighs. “I’m just useless at training.”

“There is no such thing as uselessness, Clarke,” Lexa says, walking closer. “You will grow stronger with time. You have had two weeks of training, while I have had my entire life.”

“I just don’t know what to do,” Clarke groans, leaning back. “I don’t know how to do any of this stuff, and Indra acts like she expects me to.”

Lexa is unstrapping a cuff on her shoulder as she continues to speak to Clarke. “If you wish, I can assist you.” She sets down the cuff, rolling out her shoulder for a moment. “What were you practicing today?”

“Knife throwing,” Clarke said. “I didn’t even graze the target once.”

Lexa sits on her bed, untying and unstrapping other pieces of leather armor. She must have been sword fighting today. “Indra is a wise and courageous warrior,” she scoffs. “But an impatient mentor. She has never trained someone like you before.” She smiles a little at Clarke. "I can help you to learn."

"Really?" Clarke sits up straighter. "You'd do that for me?"  
  
"Yes," Lexa grunts, as she attempts to reach a tie on her back. "If you can get this off of me."  
  
Clarke laughs and moves to sit behind Lexa on the bed, untying the various knots with quick and nimble fingers. "How did you even get these on in the first place?"  
  
"Costia," Lexa admits. "I must get better pieces. These are more complicated than need be."  
  
"That's for sure," Clarke mutters as she she helps pull off the largest piece, one that covered Lexa's chest and was tied multiple times down the back. "This is all for training?"  
  
"Anya is a hardened warrior," Lexa explains. "She acts as an enemy warrior would on the battlefield."  
  
"So..." Clarke scoots forward a little to sit next to her. "Practice?"  
  
Lexa chuckles. "You are tired, Clarke. I can see it in your eyes. Rest for now. I will get you when it is time. I have other business to attend to for the time being.”

* * *

Clarke is shaken awake some time later, and as she sits up, blinking, she realises it is already dark. "How long was I asleep?" Clarke mumbles as she rubs her eyes. 

"A few hours," Lexa replies, offering a hand to pull Clarke up.  
  
"Why are we going out at night?" Clarke asks, yawning. "Won't it be hard to see?"  
  
Lexa smiles slyly. Clarke knows that look by now. It appears when the warrior is about to surprise her; to show her another one of this world's beauties. "I have something to show you as well," she admits. "I believe you will enjoy it."  
  
Clarke puts on her shoes while Lexa grabs a small set of slim knives, and they are off. As soon as they have left camp, Clarke can see a faint green glow coming from the trees around them. "What on..." Clarke reaches out to touch the tree, and realised the soft texture is moss. "The moss glows?"  
  
"At night, the forest is still alive, and just as beautiful as the day." Lexa smiles at Clarke's amazed expression. "And holds just as many wonders."  
  
They proceed slowly through the forest, Lexa allowing Clarke to gape in amazement at the faintly glowing woods. After a few minutes, Lexa stills the blonde, smiling again. "Close your eyes."  
  
"Why?" Clarke tries to peer around the brunette, but Lexa scowls and stands in her way.  
  
"Just do it. You will not be disappointed." Lexa promises.  
  
Clarke sighs, but smiles, and closes her eyes. "If I trip and break my leg, I'm blaming you."  
  
Her smile broadens at Lexa's soft laugh. "Come, Clarke." Clarke follows the touch on her arm, and Lexa leads her ten or so paces forward. "Open them."  
  
Clarke gaps as she sees the clearing before them. Wide, blue flowers are blooming under the moonlight, giving off the same luminescent light as the trees, if not brighter. It is as though the stars have come to the ground. "It's... this is amazing." Clarke opens her mouth to speak again, but cannot find the words. Time and time again, the Ground's beauties have touched her heart, her soul. In a mere three weeks, she has seen more than she ever could have dreamed in the fifteen years she lived on the Ark.  
  
"You like it," Lexa murmurs, and Clarke nods hastily.  
  
"I love this." Clarke reassures her, still staring at the glowing meadow.  
  
Clarke feels something being pressed into her hand. It is one of the knives, and Lexa nods encouragingly as Clarke states at it. "Go on," She urges. "Just throw, and I will tell you what to do from there."  
  
Clarke holds the thin blade firm in her grasp, and nods, tightening her jaw. "What should I aim for?"  
  
Lexa scans the clearing, then points out a tree a fair distance away, though not too far for a knife's throw. "That."  
  
Clarke eyes the tree, then draws her arm back, bends her knees in the slightest, and sharply spins on her heels to a small degree as she releases it. It misses.  
  
"Your stance is all wrong," Lexa says quickly. "I am amazed that Indra said nothing."   
  
"What do I do, then?" Clarke asks, feeling defeated. She almost feels as though if Lexa continues to watch her fail, the girl will think less of her.   
  
She has seen Lexa's training and personal practice before. She is a true warrior. She fights with finesse and strength, refusing to be bested. She wrestles those taller and stronger than her to the ground. She could probably slice a butterfly neatly in half a league away with her careful aim of her daggers. Lexa is not only a jack-of-all trades, but she is a master of all of them.

“I will show you,” Lexa says, and she moves to stand behind Clarke. Her body is lightly pressed to Clarke’s as she slips another knife into the girl’s hand. “Your arm should be here,” she whispers, the breath tickling Clarke’s neck. Clarke swallows, unsure of why her stomach is twisting so. She pulls Clarke’s right arm back, so that her hand is raised slightly above her head, elbow aligned with her shoulder. A soft touch at her waist. “Move your right foot back a pace.”

“Now what?” Clarke whispers, the words feeling caught in her throat.

“When you throw, only move your hips. Not your feet. The knife is not a stone, Clarke- it is simply an extension of yourself. Let it flow from your hand smoothly. Keep your wrist stiff, and only throw with your arm.”

Clarke breathes deeply when Lexa steps back, not realizing she had been holding it in. “And then I just… throw?”

“Yes.” Lexa nods, licking her lips. “Try.”

Clarke nods firmly, eyeing the tree again. She does as Lexa instructed, and when she throws the blade, she only twists her hips in the slightest as her whole body moves with the knife, and it flips once, twice, three times as it clears the distance and buries itself in the tree.

“I did it,” Clarke whispers, before she grins. “I did it!” She whirls around to embrace Lexa. “Oh my God, I actually did it. I did something right. Thank you!”

Lexa is stiff for a moment, surprised, before she gently wraps her arms around Clarke’ back. “You are welcome, Clarke. I will always help you if you need it.”

Clarke’s heart is racing, and it is not just from the excitement of the hit.

She does not understand it.

* * *

 

A few days later, when Indra has Clarke throwing knives again, she does not feel the sinking dread that she had before. Her stance no longer is a guess or estimation, and she is confident in herself. The first knife she throws at the cloth target buries itself point-deep in the target- not in the bullseye, but very close.

She looks to Indra, eager for approval, but the woman simply nods at the target, huffing. “Again.”

Her expression is a little less harsh this time.

* * *

 

Clarke tightens her grip around the spear, eyes narrowed and trained on the beast before them. She is with two other young girls her age, as well as a man named Rowan. 

They have tracked the boar for nearly a mile before they came upon it munching on berries. It is Clarke's first true hunting party, and she is determined to prove herself. She has learned a little in the way of snares- partially from what she had learned in Earth Skills on the Ark- but she has never hunted like this.  
  
The girl a few feet two her right is armed with a bow and arrows, and was instructed to fire at the boat first before the others went in for the kill. Clarke can tell the girl is nervous in the way that her hands shake as she pulls an arrow from the quiver on her back, though there is no sign of it in her face.  
  
Another girl, Emi, had curled around with Rowan to come at the boar from the other side after the first fires her shot. Clarke does not know the archer's name.  
  
The girl notches the arrow to the bowstring, hands still now. Clarke's gaze flits between the oblivious boar and the archer- she is hopeful to see something that could benefit her own training.  
  
She watches as the girl pulls the string taunt, one eye nearly closed as she lines up the shot. And then, without warning, in the blink of an eye, she fires.  
  
A squeal from the hog alerts the party to the hit. Clarke hesitates as she trains her gaze on the boar. It starts towards their direction, until Emi and Rowan leap forward from the shrubs across the small clearing, yelling to distract it.  
  
The girl besides Clarke fires another shot, this one burying itself into the boar's shoulder. It turns again, thoroughly enraged and confused.   
  
Clarke feels a rush of adrenaline as she too raves forward, crashing through the undergrowth and ferns to face the boar.  
  
Rowan leaps to the side as the boar makes a short charge at him, and squeals again as Emi stabs at it's side with her spear, grazing its back.  
  
As the boar wheels around to charge her, Clarke, thinking quickly, grabs the nearest pebble at her feet and hurls it at the beast. It clips the boar's rump sharply, and it turns yet again to see its third visible attacker.  
  
Another arrow is fired straight into the boar's chest, and it stumbles with a loud grunt.  
  
Rowan takes the chance to leap, and lands across the boar's back. The man, with some struggle, manages to wrestle the thing to the ground, and he looks at Clarke. " _Frag_ _em op_."  
  
Clarke is surprised that he gave her the order to kill it, and Emi is as well. She glances at Clarke, looking annoyed.  
  
The blonde steps closer and raises the spear above her head, staring down at the boar.  
  
For a moment, she looks into it's eyes, and nearly drops the spear. The animal that had been so ferocious only moments ago almost seemed to be pleading for help.  
  
She remembers what Lexa told her when she hesitated to finish off a two-headed rabbit that had been trapped in a snare.  
  
"They have souls as well, Clarke, and should be respected as one of us. However, this is an unavoidable act, one that allows us to survive. We thank the spirits for our kills so as to give them the proper respect. Do this, Clarke, or the animal will die on it's own, painfully."

Clarke tightens her grip again, and brings the spear down swiftly. One last wretched squeal and violent jerk, and the boat is still.

"Not bad for your first hunt," Rowan grunts. " _Ty em op_ ," He says to Emi, who proceeds to unwind a coil of rope that was looped through her belt. She bends down and first binds the boar's legs, then ties a knot.

Emi passes the length of the rope to Rowan, who winds it three times around his hand, tugging sharply to test it. He nods, satisfied, and rises from the crouch he has been resting in. Rowan starts walking, and grunts a little as he first pulls the boar's dead weight along, but it soon walking without trouble. Clarke and Emi begin to follow, Clarke stopping for a moment to wipe the point of her spear clean of blood.  
  
As they trek back towards TonDC, Clarke reflects for a moment on her life here. It has been two months since the crash, and she is still learning more every day. Though she is by far not the fastest, nor the strongest of the Trigadakru, she can feel herself growing stronger. Her once-soft arms and legs are now becoming hardened with muscle from the rigorous training. She knows she has lost weight, from the combined change in diet and constant exercise she gets on the Ground. She feels as though she has moved more in two months than she had in fifteen years.  
  
The weather has become cooler, dropping significantly since she arrived, though it is not yet uncomfortable or cause to wear thicker clothes. Some species of birds are next to scarce as they have flown off for the approaching winter, but Lexa promises that snow-season brings on more species of prey as well.  
  
The Trigadakru no longer are so suspicious of her, aside from a handful, who aside from Cheval, avoid her altogether. Even Indra, at Clarke's slow but steady improvement in training, is less cold to her.

Life is not easy, but it is not quite so bad, either.

* * *

 

First snow.

The grey, thick clouds had loomed over the sky ominously for the past few, chilly days, and when Clarke inquired about them, Lexa would only smile knowingly and tell her to wait. Leather clothes were traded for thick, fur coats of skinned woodland animals with pieces underneath to keep them warm. Much of the flora and fauna vanished as frost chilled the earth, but as promised, white jackrabbits and weasels scurried about, chased by wolves with fierce teeth but savory meat.

And when the first white flurries fell from the sky, tickling Clarke’s nose and being trapped in her lashes, she watched in amazement, frozen in the wonder of yet another one of the world’s greatest treasures.

Many of the younger Trigadakru ran about in excitement, whooping loudly and scooping what they could of the snow dusting the earth to hurl at their companions.

Costia raced up to her, Lexa just steps behind. “Is this not wonderful?” she laughed. “The first snow is always best!”

“This is incredible!” Clarke laughed, the energy around her filling her with excitement.

She was slightly confused, for a moment, when Costia and Lexa embraced, and laughing, Lexa spun her around in a circle. The girl blinked rapidly when Costia smiled, cupped Lexa’s cheeks, and kissed her.

Clarke swallowed hard, unsure of why she felt there was a sudden lump in her throat. That lurch in her stomach. She was just surprised. Honestly, how didn’t I see it? She thought, laughing as Lexa yelped and slipped, falling flat on her rear. They might as well be constantly kissing. Those shy smiles in each other’s directions and long embraces clearly marked them as being more than just friends. Clarke was happy for them.

So why did she feel like throwing up or kicking a tree?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, my poor, gay Clarke.


	4. The Ice Clan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A village is burned down when an enemy attacks, ending the peace of the Trigadakru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain to write, for some reason. I would have written more and had it up yesterday, but I just spent all day in the ER because I had severe cramps and we thought my appendix was ruptured. Turns out, nothing was actually wrong, my cramps are just becoming hell.

Clarke awakes to the smell of smoke and a wave of heat rushing over her.

It took only a moment to jolt upright, fear coursing through her as she saw that the top of her tent had caught fire. _What the hell?!_ She quickly was standing, feeling a rush of adrenaline as she tried to find any water still in her tent.

It took another moment to hear and register the battle cries and sounds of clashing steel outside her shelter. She does not think to grab a weapon when she hears the creaking of one of the poles supporting her tent. Clarke swallows as the heat continues to grow worse, and she races from her shelter, only moments before the burning mass collapses in on itself.

She has hardly a moment to catch her breath as she takes in the scene before her. They had been staying in one of the Trigadakru's smaller villages for the past week, as Lexa had wished to visit as many of their towns and villages as she could before she was officially named Commander, in order to see her people's full scope of culture and lives. Clarke admired that about her, and was grateful that she insisted she bring Clarke and Costia by her side.

The small village was now aflame, everything from houses to tents to the undergrowth burning while unknown warriors were attacking the Trigadakru, a few on tall, mighty horses. They looked terrifying in the firelight, faces painted with white and red paint.

 _Lexa!_ Was Lexa unharmed? What if she was still trapped in her tent? Or, God forbid, had been cut down by an enemy warrior? Clarke swallows, looking around fearfully, unable to will her feet to move.

Only when a man turns his gaze towards her, leather mask showing only his dark eyes, did Clarke start to run. She hears a whoop as he chases after her.

Clarke had always thought it so stupid, how in every horror movie, the victims would trip and fall conveniently in time for the killer to catch up and brutally kill them.

She didn't realize that tripping was a very real possibility, because without watching her feet, one thuds into something soft and she stumbles, falling forward to land hard on the dirt.

She'd tripped over the body of a woman, three arrows embedded in her stomach.

Clarke tries to roll over, gasping sharply at the shooting pain in her knee, to see the man who'd started after her gaining on her, sword at the ready to strike.

On instinct, she grabs a handful of dirt and hurls it into his face when he gets closer, sword raised. He stumbles back, grunting as he tries to brush the offending substance out of his eyes.

Then, he grunts again in surprise and pain as a blade seems to grow from his stomach. He looks down at it, dropping his sword, and falls to the ground, clutching at the wound.

Clarke gulps as she stares at the fallen man, then looks up to see Costia standing above her, expression grim. She holds out a hand, and Clarke shakily takes it, allowing the redhead to pull her to her feet. “Y-you…” Clarke takes a breath, staring at the body for another moment. “Just killed him.”

“Had I not, he would have killed you,” Costia says firmly, placing a hand on Clarke’s shoulder to steady her. She bends down for a moment to wrench the man’s sword from his grasp and holds it out for Clarke. “Come. Lexa is about to sound a retreat. There is no way we will win this battle.”

Clarke took the sword, staring at Costia in confusion. “What? We can’t just leave all these people!”

"This is war now, Clarke," Costia snaps, all trace of her usual happy innocence gone. "We stay here and we all die, or we evacuate with as many as we can now and live to fight another day."

Clarke grits her teeth, but with another gaze around the burning village, she knows this was not a battle she wanted to fight, either. She was still hardly trained, and had little hand-to-hand practice at that. The village itself had few warriors aside from those that accompanied Lexa. They couldn't win this, and as much as Clarke hated to admit it, they would have to leave, and fast.

True to Costia's word, a horn is blown and there are shouts of " _Ronwa_!", which she correctly assumes is the signal to flee. The Trigadakru's remaining warriors try to lead as many as they can out of the ruins while the attackers yell and cheer, reveling in their victory.

Clarke clenches her grip on the dead man's sword and runs with Costia, towards their people and into the forest.

* * *

 It is now daybreak, and two men are leaving to scout and collect any food, if possible.

Clarke shivers against a tree, breath puffing out in thick clouds. There was still at least an inch of snow on the ground, as it was still winter, though nearing its end. Clarke sorely missed her tent with warm furs.

She looks up as Lexa walks towards her, looking concerned. "Are you injured?" she asks, crouching down so she is level with Clarke.

The girl smiles dryly. "Fine, just freezing my ass off." Lexa frowns, and shrugs out of the thick fur that resembles some sort of coat, and holds it out for Clarke to take. Clarke blinks. "Huh? Lexa, I can't take this."

"Wear it," Lexa growls, shoving it into Clarke's arms. "I am fine. You will not be able to travel to TonDC if you fall ill."

Clarke almost smiles at Lexa's unexpected protectiveness of her, until she sees the torn cloth of Lexa's sleeve. "Lexa, your arm."

She reaches out to touch it, and Lexa draws back sharply. "I am fine," She insists. "Put on the fur, Clarke."

"Sit down," Clarke sighed, but obeyed and took a moment to put on the pelt- and sighed as she felt the relief from the chill. "Believe it or not, I actually know a little about medical stuff."

Lexa furrows her brow, sitting against the tree besides her. "You are a healer?"

"Um..." Clarke frowned as she tore the ripped area of Lexa's sleeve, allowing her better vision of the wound. "Not really. My mom was the Head of Medical back on the Ark. She was a doctor- a healer, basically. I went to work with her sometimes and she taught me basic first aid and let me help her with some procedures with patients." With no water, she improvises, grabbing a little snow and rubbing it into the wound. Lexa hisses a little under her breath, but doesn't complain. "I didn't exactly love it, but it wasn't awful. I was fairly good at it, too." Clarke takes the torn-off sleeve and rips it downwards, then uses it to bandage the wound. The cut had not been deep, and had already since dried, which made for an easy binding.

Lexa rolls out her shoulder, then looks at the binding for a moment. "Would you prefer to train under our healer, Clarke?" she asks, surprising Clarke. "You would of course still learn combat and hunting skills, but you would focus on healing." She gives Clarke a rare smile. "You do seem good at it. Thank you."

Clarke is quiet for a moment, still a little surprised. She hadn't even considered asking about training as a healer. From the little she knew about the position, there was one elder, as well as a younger man working under her. It seemed like a prestigious task. She looks back up at Lexa, smiling. "That would be so great. Thank you so much."

Lexa nods, then starts to stand. "I must meet with Anya and Heran. Keep the fur."

Another hour passes before the scouts return, and they report to Lexa and Anya. As the months have gone by, Clarke has seen Lexa gain more responsibilities and respect from her people. There are still about six months until Lexa officially receives her title, though the passing of time has become murkier for Clarke. She stopped counting the days long ago, and now thinks of time as yesterday, today, and tomorrow. There are no calendars or watches on the ground, and the seasons serve as a rough estimate of three months.

Soon after, they depart, most on foot. Lexa was offered a horse, but she refused, instead offering the ride to an injured mother and her child. Anya keeps her horse, and two archers have the beasts as well, but most were left behind in the hurry to escape death.

Clarke has found the sword uncomfortably heavy for her, but continues to carry the blade. It is the only weapon she has.

The trek to TonDC takes until early evening, as the village was one of the farther ones from their capital. When they arrive, Anya calls for assistance with the injured, and they are taken away, leaning on others for support.

* * *

Clarke leans against a beam of Lexa's tent, eyes closed and head back. She is exhausted, but not yet ready to rest. Lexa has been meeting with Anya, Indra, and a few other warriors Clarke does not know for the past hour, and Clarke can only wait. 

There is another man standing rigidly outside the tent, on the other side of its flap. His name is Gustus, and ever since they returned he has remained within five feet of Lexa or any shelter she enters, hand on the hilt of his sword. He does not acknowledge Clarke's presence, only staring silently ahead, ever watchful.

After what feels like ages, Clarke opens an eye when she hears footsteps, and watches as the older warriors quickly leave Lexa's tent, murmuring quietly in their language. Though Clarke has slowly picked up on some of the basics of _Trigadasleng_ , they are speaking too quietly and rapidly for her to overhear. She waits another moment before turning to enter the tent, but Gustus draws his sword and blocks her way.

"What?" Clarke demanded. "I'm going to see her."

He does not move, and speaks gruffly. "The Commander must rest."

"I'm seeing to it that she doesn't let her arm get infected," she says, only half-lying. She _does_ wish to be sure that Lexa gets the wound properly dress, but she also wants answers about the attack.

" _Teik em ein, Gustus_." Lexa's voice carries to the outside of the tent sharply, and after a moment, he sheathes his sword and steps aside, eyes never leaving Clarke as she pushes through the flap.

"Are you okay?" Clarke asks, glancing first towards the girl's arm and then at her tired face. "You haven't slept since the attack."

"I am fine, Clarke," Lexa says, firmly, though doesn't meet her gaze. Clarke notices her face has been painted with streaks of black paint. She has seen similar markings on some of the warriors, but never on Lexa.

"Are you?" Clarke asks, coming closer. "Your bandage is stained red."

Lexa sighs, before moving to sit on her bed and rubbing her temples. "I will get it treated tomorrow. There are others in more need than I."

Clarke's heart wrenches a little as she studies Lexa. She is so _young_ , yet she is already expected to lead her people and make decisions in battle that effect all and carry on despite wounds and be so damn _regal_  through it all. Lexa has not lost her composure once, yet she is worn down, clearly. "Who were they?" She asks, changing the subject. "Those people who attacked us."

" _Azgeda_ ," Lexa says, looking up at her. "The Ice Clan. They are the most savage of the clans. Their 'queen' is hungry for land and power, and wants to put all clans under her rule. She has not attacked us since our last Commander led us," Lexa murmurs. "Though I never have met her."

Clarke blinks. "How did they pick you, then?"

Lexa looks confused by the question. "Reincarnation," she says, stating it as though it were the most obvious answer. "How are your leaders chosen?"

Clarke almost laughs out loud, until he sees Lexa’s ever-serious expression. “Um, we just vote.”

Lexa blinks, looking appalled. “Sky People ways are odd,” she mutters.

“Anyway. The Ice Clan?” Clarke sits in the single chair, glancing at the laid-out maps on the long table. She promises herself to learn more about their ‘reincarnation’ later, but there are greater things at hand for the time being. “What did they want with that village?”

“That, I do not know,” Lexa sighs, looking up at the roof of her tent. “We were meeting to discuss our next move. Whether or not to take back the village.”

“I think you should rest,” Clarke presses, gently. “You can’t think rationally under all the pressure you’re under when you’ve got no sleep.” After a moment, she adds, “I can stay with you, if you want.”

Lexa’s eyes lower back to study Clarke for a moment, before she smiles in the slightest. “Thank you, Clarke. I would appreciate it.”

Clarke helps her to remove the many leather and metal cuffs and pieces that serve as her armor, and washes the warpaint from her face. When Lexa lays down in the furs, Clarke sits with her back to the nearest pole, and slowly and carefully begins to untie the intricate braids in Lexa’s hair with nimble fingers. She smiles fondly, recalling her first night here, and how similar this position feels, even if the roles are reversed.

Lexa’s eye flicker open for a moment, and she looks up at Clarke. “Thank you. For… for being here, for me. It means more than you know.”

Clarke smiles, swallowing. Her chest feels tight, but she is also happy. “Don’t mention it,” she murmurs. “You’ve done more for me than this.”

Lexa closes her eyes as Clarke continues slowly running her hands through Lexa’s long, wild hair. Unbraided, it is frizzy and dirty, as it seems Lexa has neglected to bathe recently. Another thing to make her do tomorrow. Clarke snorts quietly at the thought; she is the one who must order the future Commander around in order to get her to take care of herself, apparently. Face washed, and hair loose, Lexa looks just like any other girl. Free of worry and responsibility while she sleeps.

Clarke still, somehow, can not explain the feelings swirling in her stomach and burning in her chest as she watches the girl sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to hmu on tumblr, my blog is hissing-willows or commander-raccoon3yes!

**Author's Note:**

> "Chit laik yu theinken gon" (Costia) - What are you thinking of?
> 
> I found a neat English to Trigadasleng translator, but it doesn't work for every word, so I've had to improvise a little for some words.


End file.
